


Sometime Around Midnight

by Guinan333



Category: Berena - Fandom, Holby City
Genre: Berena Secret Santa, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:28:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21894433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guinan333/pseuds/Guinan333
Summary: Two people looking for a new beginning meet on New Year's Eve.Based on the prompt received from Bat_and_Breakfast for her Secret Santa gift: food, beginnings, happiness. And 12 hours I spent in bar that one time.Enjoy, my friend!DancesWithCows
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 16
Kudos: 81
Collections: Berena Secret Santa 2019





	Sometime Around Midnight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bat_and_Breakfast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bat_and_Breakfast/gifts).



Sometime Around Midnight 

Serena Campbell walked into the hotel bar just outside of Holby City proper. She had suggested the locale to avoid familiar faces and ensuing whispers. Her colleagues at Holby City Hospital enjoyed a good bit of gossip no matter the parties involved. The hotel’s proximity to the high street allowed for a hasty exit into a busy crowd if it became necessary. It would be easy to get lost in the throng on New Year’s Eve.

“God, what was I thinking? A first date on New Year’s Eve,” she muttered to herself as she scanned the establishment. At least they had agreed to just a cocktail after work with no commitment for the entire evening. The thought of feigning a hospital emergency crossed her mind. She would be giving Fleur a good talking to for pushing her into this.

The bar wasn’t quite busy yet. A few businessmen coming in from across the street, their boss cutting them loose early. Serena recognized the local MP at a table by the window. She had been in the news recently responding to more of Boris’ Brexit non-sense. 

Serena recognized no one else and realized her date had not yet arrived. Or she had completely misjudged the photo from the online dating site. Hotel bars were not known for their full on illumination schemes. She decided to take the remaining seat near the end of the bar to wait.

Bernie Wolfe had been sitting at the bar of her hotel since noon. In front of her was a glass of whisky, Oban aged 14 years, and a manila envelope. Her divorce had been finalized that morning. 

She wasn’t upset about the divorce; it had been her decision to end it. The night Bernie told Marcus she wanted out, she packed a bag and landed at this hotel. The four-star had been home for the last 8 months. No, she wasn’t upset. Simply sad.

As Bernie tossed back the last dram in the glass, a woman scooted onto the next stool. Bernie motioned for the bartender and took the opportunity to glance at her new drinking companion. The woman was about Bernie’s age, her salt and pepper hair cropped short. She was dressed business casual with a flowing blouse in dark red with accents to match. She was scanning the room and checking her phone, obviously looking for someone. 

The bartender refilled Bernie’s glass and then moved his attention to the other woman. 

“Ah, um, shiraz, please.” The young man turned towards the wine rack to select a bottle. The woman took the opportunity to scan the room once more. “You wouldn’t happen to have seen a woman in here, red hair, long curls, about 40? Very, um, earthy?” the woman asked.

The bartender looked up as he poured. “Serena?” She nodded. 

“Aye. Maybe about an hour ago. Left a note for you.” He finished the pour and retrieved the note from the register. “She said she was sorry.” He shrugged lightly and went on to the next customer.

Serena read the note and sighed. “Thanks a lot, Fleur,” she mumbled. 

Bernie had observed the situation from her perch at the end of the bar. “Does Fleur not have a phone?” Serena turned to the blonde seated next to her, tilted her head in question. “This Fleur… she could’ve taken a moment to call, text, whatever – let you know – Oh, wait. You were late.” Bernie smirked a bit in her a-ha moment.

Serena chimed in, offended. “I was not late.” She relaxed her tone. “Early actually.” Serena checked her watch then looked back towards this woman she didn’t know. “If you must know, the note is not from Fleur. It’s from, well, um…” she stammered and cast her eyes about, avoiding contact with the blonde next to her. 

Bernie could see that the woman was embarrassed, felt a twinge of guilt for her role. “No need to explain,” she offered apologetically. “It’s none of my business.” There was something about this person that made Bernie want to ease her discomfort. 

Serena sighed deeply and gave the woman a brief smile. “No, it’s alright. My fault for foolishly thinking New Year’s Eve would be a good time to begin.” 

“To begin what?” Bernie queried before taking a sip of her whisky.

Serena fingered the stem of her wine glass as she considered the question. She thought she knew better than to get her expectations too high before meeting someone in person. Another sigh then a drink. She looked forward thoughtfully.

“Oh, I don’t know. A friendship. Relationship.” She laughed dully as she continued. “To begin the year with someone who could be the love of my life.” She shook her head and looked to her companion. 

Bernie considered her, saw the sadness in her eyes. She shifted her gaze forward, pursed her lips a bit and nodded gently before taking another sip.

Serena grimaced slightly. “Too much?”

Bernie looked back with a slight tilt of her head and a squint. “Just a bit.” They both chuckled to themselves and took a drink.

“I’m Bernie, by the way.” She held out her hand and Serena took it. 

“Serena,” she replied as they shook.

Bernie smiled again. “Yes, I know.”

Serena stopped short. “How did-?”

“The note. The bartender said your name.” Bernie motioned the bartender over as she finished her drink.

Serena looked down briefly. “Ah, right. Well, I guess we know why I’m here alone in the middle of the afternoon on the biggest night of the year.” She indicated to the bartender she was ready for a refill as well.

“Easy, tiger,” she teased Serena. “Put it on mine,” Bernie told the bartender. He nodded as he poured.

“You don’t need to do that,” Serena started as she reached for her wallet. 

Bernie waved her off. “My pleasure.”

“Thank you.” They both sat quietly, contemplating their own circumstances as they sipped their drinks. 

Serena broke the silence. “So, Bernie. What’s your story?” She raised an eyebrow in askance. 

Bernie chuckled. “What makes you think there’s a story?” She peered at the other woman and raised a brow of her own.

“It’s New Year’s Eve. You’re sitting in a hotel bar at 4 o’clock in the afternoon. Alone. And, by my count-” Bernie rolled her eyes a bit as Serena gave a number. “You’re on at least number three. Good choice in whisky, by the way.”

“This is four but it’s nice to know someone cares.” She lifted her glass in acknowledgement and took another drink.

Serena took stock of the other woman before prodding further. Wavy blonde hair with fringe a bit too long, thin lips and build. Did they really make jeans that fit that snug? And quite possibly the most inviting eyes she’d ever seen. She shook her head clear.

“You’re not getting off that easily, Bernie.” Her tone became less teasing. “Tell me.” 

Bernie looked at Serena. She could see the woman who had taken up the space next to her genuinely wished to know. Bernie pursed her lips. “My divorce was finalized this morning.” She pointed to the paper on the bar. “Twenty-five years of my life negated by a signature and a stamp.” She snorted a laugh and took another sip. 

“I am sorry.” Serena gave the blonde’s hand a gentle squeeze then took a sip of her shiraz.

“I should be but I’m not.” Bernie gave a slight smile though it did not reach her eyes. The comment threw Serena for a moment. 

She looked at Bernie with some confusion, asked, “Then why the scotch? And melancholy?”

Bernie grinned sheepishly. “I like scotch. And, if I’m honest, I’ve been here since noon so I’m imbibing at a snail’s pace.” She winked at Serena. She took a sip, sighing deeply before continuing. “As for the other, I’m sad that I failed.” She shook her head and gave a tight smile to Serena. “I do not use that word very often. I failed at my marriage.” A shrug. “I could have been a better wife. A better mother. But when you’re posted to a base in Afghanistan, sacrifices are made.” Another sip.

Serena’s eyes widened. “Army, then?”

Bernie looked down at her glass. “Yes. Recently retired.” She paused before returning her eyes to Serena. “So between the divorce and leaving the army, I found myself splashing out on this 4-star.”

“Well done that,” Serena replied. “That’s a lot of change all at once.”

Bernie nodded her head slightly. “The divorce was a long time coming. My doing, by the way. It just took a roadside IED and a broken back to give me the courage to do what needed to be done.”

“Blimey. You’ve been through it. It just took affair number, um, 3, I think, with a ward nurse to get my solicitor on the phone,” she recounted. “Edward was a bit of knob.” 

Bernie looked at her, brows raised. “A bit?”

“I may have understated how much of a knob the lying cheat was throughout the marriage. I got him back, though.” 

This intrigued Bernie. “Don’t leave me hanging.”

The woman leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, “Bengay in his knickers to start.”

Bernie let out a yip. “No!”

Serena confirmed with a vigorous nod. “Indeed I did. I’m not a member of the embittered ex-wives club for nothing. I followed up with sending all of the todger’s belongs to Nurse What’s-Her-Name’s flat.”

“Hear, hear!” intoned Bernie as she emphasized her approval with a pounding on the bar.

Serena took another swig of her shiraz and called for the bartender. “Can we get some snacks, please? My bill this time.” She started to get up and turned to Bernie. “I need to use the loo. Won’t be long.”

Bernie used the few moments of quiet to take stock of the last hour or so. She was perfectly contented with her tortoise-paced trip to impending drunkenness. She was truly happy the marriage was over but failing at something so important hurt. She did not do failure. The occasion should be marked somehow and the whisky bender, slow as it was, seemed appropriate. 

Then this woman sat beside her. She wasn’t looking for company but there was something about Serena that was… what? Welcoming? Entertaining? Challenging? All of it? Bernie wasn’t sure why but she knew she wanted to know her. And she wanted Serena to know her as well. All of her. This meant she’d have to tell her everything.

Serena returned and the two decided to move to a booth that had opened up by the window. Bernie took the opportunity to make for the loo as Serena ordered a couple starters. They arrived at the table as Bernie returned. 

“I hope these will do. Wasn’t sure what your tastes are,” Serena said as she helped herself to a stuffed mushroom.

Bernie started with the dates stuffed with honeyed goat cheese. “No, no, excellent choices.” 

They sat and nibbled, made small talk about the little city they were in, the people that passed the window. The waiter came to top off Serena’s shiraz. “Oh, just leave bottle,” she said as she turned and looked at Bernie, questioning. Bernie nodded in agreement. “And bring another glass for my friend, please.”

Bernie was not usually fond of red, but when she tasted Serena’s chosen tipple the richness of the shiraz felt good. Warm. “Why shiraz?” she asked Serena.

“Oh, I don’t know. It just happened, I suppose. At Uni it was anything, and everything mind, but not wine.” She adopted a faux-hoity accent. “Parents drink wine. Undergrads do not.”

Bernie laughed. “None of the undergrads I knew, anyway.”

“Right?” Serena was not usually open to sharing memories with complete strangers but there was something about this woman, this former soldier, that opened her up like a book. It unnerved her a bit. Continuing felt right. “After graduating I went on a trip to Italy with some friends and we did the vineyard tours and sampled it all. My friend Jen and I got stuck on shiraz at a small family vineyard near Naples. She and I went back the following summer. And the next. When I drink it, it reminds me of happier times.” Serena gave a small wistful smile.

Bernie just nodded in understanding. 

Serena felt a bit silly. “Saccharine, I know.”

Bernie regarded her gently. “No, not saccharine at all.” They were quiet for a moment, lost in their own memories. 

“Okay, enough of that for now. You were meeting someone for the first time tonight. Were you nervous?” Bernie tried to lighten the atmosphere.

“Who, me? Never.” A beat. “Of course I was. I even prepared some questions in case my nerves got the best of me. Didn’t even have a chance to test them out.”

Bernie grinned widely. “Well, go on then.”

Serena’s eyes widened. “What? You mean… you?”

Bernie gave her best offended face. “Oi! Yes, me. Why not?”

“Well, because you’re… you. And I know you already.” She stuttered it out.

“You’ve known me for what,” Bernie looked at her watch, “all of 3 hours. Ask me.”

Serena gave an overly dramatic eye roll as she dug through her pocketbook to retrieve--

“Notecards?!” Bernie tried to stifle her laugh but the loud goose-honk resonance came out unfettered. 

Astounded by the sound, Serena laughed as well. “Shhh. My God. Is that real?” The growing holiday crowd stared as the two women continued their laughter.

Both were red-faced and teary before they could carry on. “Of course it’s real. I couldn’t make that up. But seriously, notecards?” The laughter threatened to reemerge.

Serena wiped her eyes as she responded. “I said I was nervous. It’s been a long time since I’ve dated, let alone dated…” she paused for a moment before continuing, “dated a woman. I’ve never...Well… There it is.”

Bernie peered at Serena kindly for a moment. “Okay, let’s do this.” She sat up straight and rubbed her hands together. “First notecard.”

Serena had expected a pause in the conversation. Something to mark her coming out. She had never felt more comfortable in her life. She smiled at Bernie and nodded. “First notecard then.” 

“Be gentle with me,” Bernie smirked. 

Serena rolled her eyes then shuffled her cards. “What’s your favorite movie?”

Bernie chuckled. “Too gentle. I was joking.”

Serena remained serious. “I wasn’t. It’s a basic entry level question. If I can’t enjoy a film with you how will this ever work.” 

Bernie raised her hands in surrender. “Love, Actually.” 

“Now you’re joking.” 

Bernie was off put. “What? It is!” A beat before finishing quickly. “Followed closely by Bridget Jones Diary.” She blushed a bit before shrugging slightly. “There. I said it.”

Serena gave a tsk-tsk before she pulled out the next card. “What was the best gift you ever received?”

“Wait. You didn’t tell me your favorite movie,” Bernie interjected. 

The other woman shook her head. “My notecards, my rules. We did not agree to a quid pro quo exchange. Best gift, please.”

The blonde muttered under her breath, “Nervous, my arse.” Clearer she responded, “It would have to be a gift I received as a child. I was quite taken with The House at Pooh Corner when I was in primary school. My father would read it to me often. He had a predilection to Eeyore so the donkey became my favorite as well. He gave me a stuffed Eeyore for my 8th birthday. I treasured that toy. I actually still have it. It’s tucked away in the back of my closet along with his copy of the book. The smell reminds me of growing up. And of Dad.”

Serena held her eyes to Bernie’s as she listened to her memory. The intensity was not uncomfortable. In fact, she felt as if she and Bernie were old friends reconnecting. The feeling warmed her. They broke eye contact as the waiter came to check on their status. They agreed to another bottle and dessert. Serena was partial to tiramisu whilst Bernie opted for the house made cheesecake. 

“I hadn’t realized how crowded this place had become,” the blonde noted as she scanned the room. “What time is it?”

Serena checked her watch. “Going on 9 already. I shouldn’t be taking up all your time,” she apologized.

Bernie waved her off. “Really? It’s the best company I’ve had in months.” 

Serena demurred as the desserts arrived. As a connoisseur of all things sweet, Serena could not contain her appreciation for the tiramisu. Each bite garnered a deep moan. Bernie just stared through the first couple moans. She finally chuckled and started on her cheesecake. 

Her dining partner eventually scooped a heaping bite on the fork and held it out for Bernie to sample. She understood where Serena’s enjoyment stemmed and let out a moan herself. “Oops. Sorry, but God, that’s incredible.”

“You’ve been staying here how long and you haven’t tried this? Shameful.” Serena chastised her. 

Bernie took this chance to turn the questioning tables. “Obviously you get great enjoyment from good food. What’s the best meal you’ve ever had? Excluding this one, of course.” She smiled sweetly and waggled her brows a touch.

Serena giggled and acquiesced. “Okay, quid pro quo. It was on one of the trips back to Italy with the friend I mentioned. We did a tour of the Amalfi coast. We stopped at any small ristorante we came across and asked for their most requested dish. I swear I gained 2 stone that summer.”

“I’m sure it only felt that way,” the blonde encouraged as she finished her cheesecake.

“Right. My trousers would argue. There was this one place on top of a hill. It was a climb. Once we got to the top we found it. It only fit a dozen, maybe 20 people tops. We were there for three hours. At least. I’ve never had gnocchi that fluffy or buttery. And the sauces! We wanted them all so we talked… I say we… Jen talked. She spoke the language far better than me. She could get the locals to take us to the best spots which usually ended up being their homes. One time we borrowed a scooter. Thought she’d get us both killed.” She paused for a moment at the memory. 

Bernie could see her go to a different place, just briefly, before she continued. “She cajoled them enough to serve sampling plates of the gnocchi with every sauce. The antipasti. And their desserts. Oi! We tried a couple but the tiramisu! Jen used to say she had never met anyone who enjoyed food more than I did.”

She looked up to find Bernie’s eyes steady on hers. “It sounds like a wonderful place.”

“Hmm, it was. The last time, the last day actually, that we were there together we hiked out with a basket and a couple of bottles. Ended up sleeping under the most beautiful sky.” Serena smiled at the memory. “It was one of the happiest times of my life.”

“Did your friend know?” Bernie asked.

Serena gave her a look of confusion. “Know what?”

Bernie smiled softly. “That you were in love with her?”

Serena looked down, feeling a bit caught out. She wasn’t angry about it, though. She didn’t think she could be mad at this woman. She looked back up. “No, I never had the chance to tell her. She died the summer after that trip. I didn’t realize until after.” She shrugged. 

Bernie saw the tear in her eye and reached for her hand. Serena did not pull away so she laced their fingers with hers. It felt right.

“Serena, I haven’t been completely honest.” 

Serena pulled her hand away. “This does not bode well.” She wiped the tear from her eye and gave a wet chuckle. “Go on, then.”

Bernie sighed deeply and took a drink of her shiraz, furrowed her brow. “I had an affair. When I was in Afghanistan. That’s why I ended it.”.

Serena thought for a moment. She wasn’t sure how to feel about this. A brief twinge of disappointment came and went. It bore Edward’s face as it passed. Before today she did not know Bernie nor anything of her life. It was not hers to pass judgement. 

She nodded her head as she spoke. “I’m sure the circumstances at the time were trying. Away from home, under fire.” She took a drink. “Were you in love with him?”

The blonde continued. “Serena, my affair was with a woman, Alex. It didn’t last long but I had always known there some sort of disconnect with Marcus but until I met her, I didn’t know what it was. Once I knew, everything made sense. I found comfort in her but no, I didn’t love her.” She smiled meekly. “I’ve never talked about it aloud. To anyone. But I thought you should know.”

Serena returned her hand to Bernie’s and stroked the back of it with her thumb. “I’m glad you told me. So glad.”

Bernie released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “I guess it’s been a big day for both of us.”

Serena laughed. “Indeed.” She shook her head clear. “Next question: When have you been the happiest?”

Bernie ducked her head and blew the fringe away from her eyes. “Honestly?”

Serena nodded. “Of course.”

Bernie nodded in return. “In for a penny. Right now. This moment… feels like it could be it.” She looked Serena in the eye and gave her a shy shrug.

At that moment, wait staff began delivering champagne flutes to all the patrons. They stopped their waiter as he passed. “What’s this?” Serena asked.

“It’s the countdown to midnight!” He tossed a small handful of confetti as he moved on.

The crowd began counting at ten. Serena and Bernie looked at each other and laughed. Bernie posed the same question to the other woman.

“I think you’re on to something,” Serena responded. 

Bernie stood and held her hand out toward the other woman. Serena looked at it then gazed into Bernie’s eyes. She took the proffered hand and stood in front of the blonde. Both smiled and moved closer as the countdown ended with a boisterous “Happy New Year” from the crowded bar. Their kiss was soft, sweet, and gave a suggestion of much more. As they pulled apart, Bernie whispered a Happy New Year in Serena’s ear.

Serena leaned in for another kiss, this one lingering through half a verse of “Auld Lang Syne” then moved to the blonde’s ear. “Happy New Year, Bernie. Let’s get out of here.”

Bernie backed away. “Yes, ma’am.” She picked up their coats as Serena giggled and pulled her towards the elevators. Once they stepped in Serena had one last question. “Where do we go from here?” Bernie pressed the button for the 8th floor and waggled her brows as she glanced to Serena. “Aside from the obvious,” Serena added.

Bernie bumped Serena’s shoulder and turned to look at her as the doors closed. She took Serena’s hand in hers and entwined their fingers. “Well, I start a new job the 6th January but just in the next city… at Holby City Hospital.”

Serena’s eyes widened as she faced the blonde. “Really?”

“Yep. I’m the new trauma consultant in the ED there. So I’ll be close by.” She pulled Serena closer, leaned in and kissed her softly.

The elevator chimed at Bernie’s floor. Their hands still entangled she led the other woman out as Serena grinned and whispered to herself, “Closer than you know.”


End file.
